


Angel Wings and Stranger Things

by Redqueenswrath



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angel Wings, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of past sexual assault, Misunderstandings, Protective Dean Winchester, Sastiel - Freeform, Wing Kink, Wingfic, castiel gets carried away, sam grows wings, soul wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 09:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14305494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redqueenswrath/pseuds/Redqueenswrath
Summary: Sam's soul sprouts wings long before it should have. Castiel is very taken with said wings. Author has a shameless wing kink.





	Angel Wings and Stranger Things

Sam’s back had been aching for  _ days. _ And not the ‘I dug up a grave while my asshat brother watched’ kind of ache, or the ‘I’ve been sitting in a car for three days’ kind of ache. More like the ‘I went ten rounds with Mike Tyson’ sort of ache. Nothing helped- not hot showers, not getting home to his own amazing mattress, not painkillers. He even resorted to going to get a massage. The poor masseuse had been shocked by how knotted up the Winchester’s back was and alarmed by the collection of scars he carried, but in the end he was  _ still _ in pain. It was wearing on him, keeping him awake at night and souring his usually calm mood. He couldn’t go for his runs because it made the ache worse. His temper grew shorter and shorter until he and Dean came to blows in the library, only to be stopped by Sam hitting his knees and curling into a ball in agony. Dean’s last punch never landed as he gathered his sobbing brother into his arms and screamed for the resident Angel. 

 

“What happened?!” Castiel barked, appearing in a flutter of wings. At first, he assumed that a Winchester brawl had gotten out of hand- Dean’s knuckles were bleeding and Sam was developing a shiner. But closer inspection revealed warped, twisted lines of energy marring Sam’s back, wrapping around his spine and burrowing into the muscles. Wide-eyed, he described to the brothers what he alone could see.

 

“How long has this been going on, Sam?” 

 

Sam hissed in pain as Castiel tenderly laid a hand on his back. “A week? It’s been getting worse and worse.” 

 

“The fuck is wrong with him?!” Dean snarled. Fear for his sibling made the elder hunter’s temper short and his voice clipped, and Castiel refused to be offended by it. 

 

“I believe… I believe it is something to do with his soul. I will have to investigate deeper.” Fear flashed across Sam’s face and Dean blanched- neither man was a stranger to having their soul monkeyed with and it wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience. Dean stripped his belt off and jammed it between Sam’s teeth before pulling the younger man into his chest, wrapping powerful arms around Sam’s shoulders to hold him in place. 

 

Sam buried his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and breathed deep, letting his brother’s familiar scent -gunpowder, leather, and oil- steady him. “Do it.” He growled around the leather in his mouth. 

 

“I am sorry for this.” Castiel murmured, stroking Sam’s shoulder in apology before twisting his hand and driving it into the hunter’s soul. Sam screamed raggedly, biting down hard on the belt, and Dean clutched him tightly in response. 

 

“Breathe, Sammy. Just breathe.” Dean soothed, one hand coming up to cup the back of Sam’s head. The younger man whimpered and cried out again as a fresh wave of pain hit him. Dean’s eyes met Castiel’s over Sam’s shoulder and he was shocked to see confusion, disbelief, and awe etched into the Angel’s expression. 

 

“There is something...something  _ growing _ in Sam’s soul.” The Angel shifted minutely, twisting his hand until he could grip the anomaly and try to pull it to the surface. 

 

“I’m sorry,  _ what?!” _ Dean growled. Castiel ignored him.

 

“I’ve got it.” Sam bucked, arching with a scream as Castiel drew his find outwards, pulling it out of the hunter’s body. “Dean, close your eyes!” 

 

The Winchester obeyed without hesitation, accustomed to heeding that urgent voice after years of fighting together. He forced Sam’s face into his shirt, shielding the younger man as well as white light lit up the insides of his eyelids. There was a resounding crack, like a lightning strike directly on top of them, and every hair on Dean’s body stood on end. The air fizzled and reeked of ozone, but he still didn’t dare open his eyes until he was given the ‘all clear’. In his arms, Sam collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

 

“Sammy?” Dean shook him lightly, but there was no response. If it hadn’t been for the shuddering exhales against his neck, Dean would have thought that Sam had keeled over then and there.

 

“Father…” Castiel breathed, barely more than a whisper. The ozone-and-lightning sensation faded and Dean cracked an eye open. He gave a shocked yelp at the sight that greeted him- wings… massive, feathered, hawk-like wings were sprouting from Sam’s back.

 

“What the hell did you do to him?!” If it wasn’t for his comatose little brother in his arms, Dean would have been lunging for the Angel. Castiel held his hands up in a gesture of peace.

 

“Nothing. Sam has done this all by himself. Dean, those are  _ soul wings. _ Most souls, when they pass on to Heaven, can grow wings. It’s the primary means of transport in Heaven. But somehow… somehow, Sam’s soul has ‘jumped the gun’ and done it while he’s still alive.” Dean could all but see the air quotes and he gave a slightly hysterical laugh in response. 

 

“So, the pain he was in? All that fuss over a back ache?”

 

Castiel nodded. “That was his body attempting to force the wings into the visible spectrum. He didn’t know how to do it, and it was causing him immense pain. I’m honestly not sure how he withstood it- it must have been agonizing. I simply reached in and guided them out.”

 

“When you’ve been tortured by the Devil himself, nothing else really registers in comparison.” Sam grumbled against Dean’s throat and the older brother jumped, having missed Sam’s return to the land of the conscious. He pulled the belt out of Sam’s mouth, eyebrows shooting up in shock at the teeth marks that went all the way through the leather- the belt was ruined!

 

“You ok, Sammy?”

 

The younger man scoffed. “Define ‘ok’.” 

 

“Are you in pain still?” Castiel asked softly. After a brief inventory, Sam shook his head. 

 

“I feel fine now. But… ah…” Carefully, Sam craned his neck until he could get a glimpse of the new limbs adorning his back. “Holy shit.”

 

“That about sums it up.” Castiel deadpanned, eyes wide. The angel started to extend a shaking hand, stopping just short of coming into contact with Sam’s left wing. Sam flexed the new muscles experimentally and was pleased when they responded. Instinct seemed to help his mind adapt to the addition and he carefully spread his wings to their fullest, nearly twelve feet from tip to tip. Dean whistled.

 

“Goddamn, Sammy. That’s… holy shit that’s cool!” And cool it was- Sam’s wings resembled those of a Red Tailed Hawk, creamy white on the undersides with alternating bars of pale brown and red. They were strikingly shaped, sculpted for extremely fast flight and easy maneuvering. 

 

“Warrior’s wings.” Castiel sounded awestruck. Before he really realized what he was doing, the Angel was leaning in and smoothing his palms over the longest flight feathers. Sam hissed and shivered, feathers fluffing up like he had goosebumps, and Cas carefully dug his fingers in until they hit the soft down underneath. He wormed his fingers around, exploring by touch. So captivated was he that he completely missed the way Sam shivered and groaned, his eyes fluttering closed.

 

“Hey, Cas..” Dean hummed. 

 

“Just a moment.” Came the curt reply and the Angel dug his fingers in deeper, running his hands up and down the strange new appendages as he sought to determine exactly how they worked on this plane of existence. The pad of his thumb brushed a hard knot -oil gland, his mind supplied helpfully- and Sam keened.

 

“Cas.” Dean was again ignored in favor of exploring Sam’s wings. The younger hunter shook, trembling in Dean’s increasingly tight grip. Dean’s expression went dark- growing up in each other’s back pockets, he had seen Sam in every conceivable situation. He had walked in on his little brother pleasuring himself multiple times, and that was an  _ extremely _ specific facial expression. One he was seeing right now, in fact. Sam shook again, gasping for breath and biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as he fought not to react.

 

“Cas, stop!” Sam whimpered around a tongue made of lead. The sensation of having his new wings touched and explored so thoroughly was sending heat zinging through his veins, centering deep in his pelvis, and oh God he didn’t want to do this, not in front of Dean! The Angel didn’t seem to hear him and Sam couldn’t fight it any more, the star of heat in his gut imploding in a supernova. He trembled and gasped weakly against his brother’s shirt.

 

“CASTIEL!” Dean snarled, rage flooding his vision with red, and the Angel seemed to snap back to himself. He wrenched his hands from Sam’s still shivering wings, staring down at his fingers in horror. 

 

“What the  _ fuck _ is wrong with you?! You son of a bitch!” Sam whimpered weakly as Dean helped him to lay down on the rug, curling inwards on himself. The elder brother lunged for the Angel, fisting his hand into Castiel’s dress shirt for better purchase as he slugged him as hard as he could. Too shocked to brace himself, Cas took the whole brunt of the punch and his head snapped back, blood pouring from his broken nose. 

 

“Dean… Dean, I…”

 

“Get the fuck out of here before I get my hands on an angel blade, you fucking bastard.” Dean’s voice dropped low and dangerous and for a moment, Castiel saw not Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man, but Alistair’s star pupil and Knight of Hell.

 

“I’m so sorry…” Castiel choked out and vanished as Dean threw another punch.   

 

oooooOOOOOooooo

 

A week went by and the Winchesters didn’t hear a peep from the third member of Team Free Will. Dean was still raging, his eyes going nearly black any time Sam tried to talk about him about what had happened. Sam quickly abandoned that particular topic and took to wandering around outside in the relative safety of the woods. He didn’t dare try to fly, not without any instruction, but he very much enjoyed sitting on the edge of a nearby abandoned quarry, feet dangling and face in the wind. He stretched his wings out behind them and for a moment, allowed himself to dream about flying, Castiel by his side. 

 

Castiel… the name caused a confused surge of emotion for the human. Yes, he had been taken advantage of. Dean was extremely vehement about that- the angel had been asked to stop what he was doing several times and had flat out ignored them, up to and including forcing Sam to orgasm in front of his big brother. Sam wasn’t sure if he would ever live that shame down, though to his credit, Dean hadn’t said a word about that particular detail. But Sam couldn’t help but think that the Angel hadn’t  _ meant _ to do it. It hadn’t been a malicious act, the horror and self-loathing on Castiel’s face had been proof enough of that. And to be honest, Sam missed his friend. Missed him enough to pray to him several times a day, asking him to come home, in fact. So far there had been no reply.

 

With a heavy sigh, Sam returned to the bunker. It wasn’t safe for him to stay out for long periods- what if someone saw him?? But remaining confined to the bunker forever was a horrifying prospect all by itself. He couldn’t stand the pitying looks Dean kept shooting him, so he returned to hiding in his room and binge watching Netflix. Sam flopped down on his bed, all six limbs akimbo, and closed his eyes.

 

“I pray to the Angel Castiel. Cas, I know you’ve got your ears on so listen up. Come home, please. We need to talk about this. Just come home, ok? We… I...miss you.” Sam sighed again, blindly fumbling for the remote, and nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a flutter of wings nearby. 

 

Castiel was a mess. Physically, he looked exactly the same. But the way he carried himself, the slump to his shoulders and the deep circles under his eyes, spoke to his shame and anger with himself. He said nothing, staring at the floor between his scuffed dress shoes. 

 

“Hey, Cas.” Sam whispered. He slowly sat up, trying to not spook the Angel. Castiel was still staring at the floor as he replied.

 

“Hello, Sam.” There was defeat and hopelessness in his voice, strong enough to make Sam choke. 

 

The hunter sighed. “Cas… what you did… dude, that was all sorts of fucked up.” Castiel flinched as though he had been struck, face going pale and hands trembling in fists at his side. 

 

“I’m sorry. Sam, I’m so sorry. I wish I could change it.”

 

“I just want to know  _ why, _ man.” Sam still hadn’t moved from his perch on the edge of the bed. “Just sit down, ok? I don’t like you looming over me like that.” The raven-haired Angel immediately obeyed, dropping into the chair in the corner with a harsh breath.

 

“For what it’s worth, I never meant to take advantage of you like that. I was so caught up in my fascination that… that I didn’t notice how it was affecting you.”

 

Sam stared at him, wide-eyed. “You didn’t know?”

 

“Not until it was too late. Touching an Angel’s wings is pleasant, but not something that would be...sexual...in nature. I had assumed that your wings would be the same, but it seems that on a physical plane, the sensation is interpreted differently. And I believe your wings to be unusually sensitive for an adult.”

 

The hunter cocked his head in confusion, unconsciously mirroring the gesture the Angel made frequently. “Explain.”

 

Castiel groaned softly and buried his face in his hands. “Sam, you have to understand. I am the youngest of the Angels. When I was born, we had been at war for thousands of years. I was raised from infancy to be a warrior.”

 

“Like the Spartans?” Sam interrupted.

 

“Very much so. And because of that upbringing, my wings are that of a seasoned warrior- scarred and battle-torn. I wear them with pride because I earned them. But your wings… your wings are pristine. Beautiful, spotless in their glory.” Said wings twitched slightly, lifting a little in an unconscious gesture of pride. “You have the wings of someone who didn’t live through a thousand years of nonstop battle, what an Angel’s wings  _ should _ look like. And they’re brand new. All fledgling's wings are sensitive at first. You have fledgeling wings, shaped like an adult Angel’s. I… I cannot explain adequately how intriguing that is. I have literally never seen the like before. They are entrancing. Even now, they reach for me to touch them again.”

 

And it was true- the tips of Sam’s wings had curved around, stretching towards the Angel in the corner. Sam snapped them back with a huff, folding them firmly against his spine, and Castiel winced as though he had been struck. 

 

“I never meant to hurt you, Sam. Nor to make you feel so violated. I will never, ever,  _ ever _ be able to make amends for what I did to you.” There was heartbreak in the Seraph’s eyes and it made Sam do a double-take. He reached towards the other with both hand and wing.

 

“Cas..I…” Castiel cut him off with a sharp handwave.

 

“No. I do not deserve you, nor your sympathy. Whatever could have been between us, I’ve ruined before it ever had a chance at life.” 

 

Sam felt like he had been punched in the chest. Yes, he had always felt something for the Angel. What it was, he had never been sure. More than friendship, certainly. Despite the Angel’s initial misgivings about him, they had become very close over the last decade. And Sam had nurtured something like a crush on the cosmic being, carried a torch for him in silence, because he felt himself unworthy of such a creature. Castiel was an  _ Angel, _ holy on a level Sam couldn’t quite comprehend, and Sam… Sam was the boy with the demon blood, the blood junkie who had set off the apocalypse. He didn’t deserve to stand in Castiel’s shadow, nothing less walk at his side. And yet, here was Cas, admitting that it had been mutual on some level? The hunter’s whole world had just tipped on its axis.

 

“Castiel, if you had just  _ asked…” _

 

“If I could go back and change it, I would. I would give anything to be able to undo what I did, give back what I took from you.”

 

The hunter blanched. “Took from me? That’s a bit of an exaggeration, isn’t it?”

 

“Sam, I  _ raped  _ you!” Castiel slammed his hand down on the armrest hard enough to splinter the wood.

 

“No you fucking didn’t. You got carried away, yeah, but you didn’t rape me.” There was something cold in Sam’s tone now, memories of unspeakable pain lurking just under the surface.

 

Castiel scoffed. “Dean certainly believes I did-” 

 

Sam cut him off, leaping to his feet and flaring his wings as wide as he could in the confined bedroom. A lamp went flying and he couldn’t give less of a damn as he advanced on the angel. “NO YOU FUCKING DID NOT RAPE ME! You don’t get to make that call!  _ Dean _ doesn’t get to make that call! Nobody does but  _ me! _ And guess what?! I’ve been raped! Lucifer and Michael fucking took turns on me! That bitch Toni drugged and mind-raped me! What you did? That barely even fucking registers in comparison!” The hunter ranted, pressing right up into Castiel’s admittedly nonexistent personal space until they were nose to nose. His wings arched high over his head, demanding submission from the Seraph. The angel stared up at him, eyes wide and shining with unshed tears, before he threw himself at Sam’s feet, prostrating himself before the enraged man.

 

“Forgive me, Sam! I do not deserve it but I beg for your forgiveness all the same. I will endure any punishment you deem fit if you will grant me forgiveness for my transgressions against you.” There was a hitch in his breathing, as though the angel was sobbing against Sam’s feet, and the hunter felt his heart break into a million jagged little pieces.

 

“Show me your wings, Cas.” Sam whispered. Castiel shuddered but obeyed, ebony wings like that of a raven shimmering into existence. The Winchester gasped in awe, staring at the oil-slick swirls of purple and blue that danced over the appendages. He reached for them, fingers trembling as he ghosted his palms over the feathers, and Castiel shook violently. 

 

“Cas, wha-?”

 

“Whatever punishment you deem fit.” Castiel murmured, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. He seemed to brace himself, and Sam realized that the angel expected Sam to harm his wings, rip feathers out and brutalize the stunning limbs. Sam felt sick. 

 

“I’d never hurt them, Castiel.” Sam dropped to his knees and carefully tugged his friend up until he mirrored Sam’s position, kneeling on the floor of Sam’s bedroom. Tentatively, Sam reached for the angel’s wings again. “May I?”

 

Castiel nodded, his whole body bowstring tight as he set his shoulders. Sam gently stroked the upper arch of the marginal coverts, soaking in the impossible softness. As he looked closer, he could see missing and bent feathers here and there, and a couple of spots where scar tissue underneath made the feathers sit strangely against the ones around them. He could feel a slight crick in the radius bone, telling him that it had been broken at some point and set rather poorly. Warrior’s wings, indeed. 

 

“Ask me.” Sam ordered softly. The angel shivered and shook his head, disbelief writ large across his features. Sam hummed in disapproval.

 

“Fine. I’ll do it, then.” The hunter grinned faintly and cranked up the puppy-dog look. Yes, he claimed to not know when he did that, that it was involuntary. But he had abused the hell out of his wide, innocent eyes and adorable expression plenty of times, from getting himself out of trouble to ‘cute-ing’ his way straight into many women’s beds. He wasn’t quite the manwhore that Dean was, but Sam knew how to use his looks to devastating effect, and he shamelessly used that knowledge now. 

 

“Please touch my wings, Castiel.” He peered up at the angel from under his fringe, dialed the eyes up to eleven, pouted just a tiny bit, and waited. The other man groaned low in his chest and Sam had just enough time to do a mental fist pump before he had fingers carding through the delicate feathers of the underside of his wings. Sam whimpered approvingly.

 

“Are you sure, Sam?”

 

Sam scoffed. “I’ve wanted you since I met you. Yeah, I’m sure. Now fucking touch me like you mean it.

 

The angel’s small smile took on a dangerous smirk. “As you wish.” He dug his hands in, ruffling the feathers in every direction before smoothing them out again. Sam moaned and Castiel repeated the gesture further down, targeting one of the oil glands he knew was hidden amongst the feathers. The human shakily tried to copy the gesture but mostly ended up petting the angel like a cat. Castiel didn’t complain.

 

Sam’s mind was rapidly devolving into a puddle of mush. Castiel’s expert ministrations had him moaning and arching into nothing, instinct driving him to seek friction on his suddenly aching cock. The stimulation on his wings stopped and Sam cracked an eye open, finding Castiel staring at the completely unmissable bulge in the hunter’s jeans. 

 

“Shall I help you with that, too?” Castiel purred, and all Sam could do was nod frantically. Words were completely lost on him as the angel deftly popped his button fly and tugged the denim down Sam’s thighs until he could gently pull his erection free of his boxers. Sam was ridiculously grateful when Cas pulled the waistband out far enough that it wouldn’t snag his overly sensitive glans before settling the elastic under the hunter’s heavy sac. The angel reached up into his own wing and gathered a palmful of oil. He slathered the warm, slick substance over Sam’s shaft and gave it a few gentle tugs, causing the human to keen and arch his back into a deep bow. Castiel smirked and did it again, simultaneously tugging a handful of Sam’s feathers. 

 

“Oh, shit! Fuck, do that again!” Sam swore loudly, fisting both hands into Castiel’s wings for balance as the angel laughed and obediently repeated both motions. “Fuck, that’s good…!” Castiel added a twist of his wrist on every upward stroke as he expertly worked the hunter’s dick and wings at the same time. If Sam had had two brain cells to rub together, he’d have wondered how the angel, who had once been so incompetent that he had sent a prostitute running screaming, had gotten so damned good. But as it was, his mind was rapidly dissolving into blissful white noise. His hips bucked mindlessly, demanding a faster pace, and Castiel obliged him with a pleased groan.

 

“Cas… wanna feel you…” Sam slurred, his hand clumsily pawing at the front of Castiel’s dress slacks. All of their clothing vanished at once and Sam couldn’t help but laugh, though it warped into a pleasured moan a few seconds later as Castiel crawled straight into his lap and straddled his hips, grinding both their erections together in a slide just the right side of too much friction. 

 

“Yes…” Castiel hissed, bucking into Sam and digging both hands into the hunter’s feathers. He tugged firmly, getting a squeal from the man under him, but he couldn’t revel in that victory for long. Sam found an oil gland and milked it for a moment, making Castiel’s eyes go crossed in pleasure, before his fingers traipsed over the angel’s hip, down the curve of his muscular ass, and tentatively swirled around his hole. 

 

“This ok?” Sam’s voice was choked, thick with pleasure, and the angel nodded desperately. 

 

“ _ Please, _ Sam!” The human obeyed, pressing first one and then a second finger in, meeting no real resistance. Now, Sam hadn’t been with many men but even he knew that there should have been more prep work needed. He arched an eyebrow at the angel in his lap, who smirked unrepentantly and ground down on him.

 

“You’ve been hanging out with Gabriel and Balthazar again, haven’t you?” 

 

“Sam, do not talk about my brothers when you are finger fucking me.” Castiel gritted out and Sam couldn’t help but laugh at the profanity. Talk about a compliment- driving an angel to swear in bed! He crooked his fingers, searching around for the bundle of nerves hidden a couple of inches in and just behind the testicles… the resulting squeal told Sam that he’d struck gold and he pumped his fingers into the gland firmly, drawing a series of broken moans from the angel. 

 

“Wanna be inside you, angel.” Sam rumbled, pressing his cock against the other’s belly in search of more stimulation. Castiel nodded frantically and arched up, helping to guide the hunter’s cock into position as best he could. He moaned loudly -too loudly!- and yanked at Sam’s feathers as the thick cockhead breached him, then sank all the way in until Castiel swore he could feel it in his throat. Father, the man was massive all over! 

 

“You good?” Sam gasped out, fighting for some semblance of control. He was in his thirties, dammit, and wasn’t going to blow his wad in seconds like a teenager! Castiel nodded weakly and Sam grinned like a shark that had spotted its next easy kill. “Good. Hold on!” He fucked up into Castiel’s hot clench, putting every inch of his powerful thighs into each thrust. The angel keened and Sam moaned in response, clutching the angel tight to his chest by his wings. Castiel’s hands found their way back to Sam’s feathers and clung there, using them as a handhold. Each sharp, punishing thrust ripped another yelp of pleasure-pain from the angel and Sam’s rather sadistic side reveled in it- he had always liked it rough and now he had a partner that he couldn’t actually damage no matter how hard he laid into them! 

 

Sam could feel the pleasure mounting rapidly, heat singing in his veins like molten gold. Almost there… 

 

“What the  _ fuck?!  _ Not again, you fucked up bastard! _ ”  _ The door slammed open, kicked in by a livid big brother wielding a sawn off shotgun. He leveled at the angel’s back and Sam shouted in alarm, wings whipping around to both conceal and protect his lover.

 

“Dean, no!” 

 

“Sammy-”

 

“NO! For fuck’s sake, I consented to this!  _ Enthusiastically _ consented, so fuck the hell off!” 

 

Dean gaped at them for a heartbeat longer before spinning on his heel, exiting the room as fast as he had barged in. He slammed the door behind him and Sam could hear him screaming about needing brain bleach all the way down the hallway. From where he had buried his face in Sam’s shoulder, the angel snorted, snickered, and then full-out howled with laughter. Helpless to do anything but join in, Sam pressed a kiss to Castiel’s temple and held him close. 

 

“Fuck, I don’t know if I can even finish now.” Sam grumbled, still chuckling. Castiel swiveled his hips and Sam groaned, regaining all of the hardness he’d lost in a heartbeat. The angel gathered his knees under himself and started riding Sam, fingers deftly working over the human’s wings. 

 

“Never mind… Jesus fuck, you keep doing that and I’m gonna blow!” 

 

Castiel smirked. “That’s the idea.” One last expertly executed hip roll and Sam tripped over the edge, emptyinging himself into the angel’s body with a gut punched moan. He halfheartedly wrapped trembling fingers around Castiel’s neglected erection and tugged, enticing the angel to follow him into bliss. A few moments later, Castiel obeyed with a soft whine, painting their bellies with his release. Angel and hunter clung to each other through the aftershocks, trading soft kisses as they came down from their shared high. 

 

Sam pressed his lips to Castiel’s sweaty temple before the pair disengaged. He cast around for a discarded shirt to clean up the worst of the mess, throwing it vaguely in the direction of the hamper, before gathering the angel into his arms. 

 

“We’re going to have to deal with Dean at some point.”

 

Castiel grunted in displasure and tucked himself more firmly under Sam’s chin. Sam chuckled.

 

“Naptime, first?” 

 

There was a snap, and they were relocated to the bed. The younger Winchester couldn’t bring himself to complain at the frivolous use of Grace, not when it resulted in him being clean, dry, and not laying on the cold floor. 

 

“Awesome.” 


End file.
